Boring
by MaeveMonster
Summary: Melody is a normal teen living in NYC. Her life is pretty average. She's got homework, a nagging mother, and a dangerously-bad-for-her crush. What happens when she finds said crush, Ricky Olson, infamous school delinquent, in an alley looking like he needs help? Well she helps him of course! But, things don't go as planned and she ends up needing help herself. Who will save her?


Boring

You would think being a teenager in New York City would be awesome, amazing maybe... If you thought that, then you would be wrong. My life in the Big Apple pretty much sucked. My mother was more strict than a military officer, and my dad was almost never home, him being a police captain and all... Everyday as he gets ready for work and puts on his badge, I have to accept the possibility that he might not come home in the evening.

At least I had my friends to count on, right? Wrong. I've never really had many friends. I go to school, and I come home. I only speak when I need to, and that's not all that often. I don't do any sports or belong to any clubs. School is where I spend six hours of my day, five days a week, memorizing formulas and algorithms, names of old guys with white wigs, and trying to avoid speaking to anyone.

What do I do when I'm not at school? Homework. Monster Mommy makes sure I have perfect grades... Or else. Scary right? Yeah maybe not to you, but I've avoided that "or else" my whole life just to keep Monster Mommy happy, and I don't intend on breaking that record anytime soon.

I sound pretty whiney and annoying "I hate my mom! I have no friends! I have daddy issues!" but there are some bright spots in my Hell of a life. One of them is music. When I'm not at school or doing homework I'm listening to, playing, or writing music. I play piano, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, flute, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, and I can sing. Music is my light in a dark place, the life boat to my own personal Titanic, and the net under my tightrope.

The other good thing about my life is Ricky Olson. He's a junior, like me, and he's been in my class since third grade. I remember the day he first came to school and I saw his confident smile at the class... That was the first, and last, time I've ever liked someone.

He's turned into quite the man, let me tell you. Drinking and smoking, graffiti and knife fights. Yeah he's no good, and I don't know why I still like him, but I do. It's not like he knows I exist or anything extreme like that. I only fantasize. You know how it goes.

Anyways I guess I should start my story back when things started getting weird at school. There's a kid at my school named Peter Parker. He's an unappreciated genius as far as I can tell. He gets good enough grades... Better than good actually, he's the top of the class... In all of them. He usually flies under the radar, like me, but a few weeks ago his name started popping up a lot in those little gossip circles I overhear during lunch. Peter Parker and Flash.

Flash is the school bully. He thinks he's cool when he beats up on other guys that are smaller or smarter than him.

From the pieces that I could put together here's what I heard during those first few days.

Flash was being his usual self and doing his best to make some nerd's day miserable. Hitting books out of his hands, tripping him on his way to class and then crushing his glasses underfoot. Eventually when the brave soul tried to stand up for himself, he got a right hook to the face and a knee in the gut. It wouldn't have been anything to talk about had that been the end of it, but no. Peter Parker, the tiny nerd boy who was usually the center of Flash's attention as far as beatings go, stepped in and defended the kid. Not only did he beat Flash, but he didn't throw a single punch. He dodged everything Flash threw at him and the last punch that Flash threw landed on the lockers instead of on Peter's face. Flash wailed like a little girl and ran away with his tail between his legs. Peter helped the kid up, actually I think the nerd's name was Ronnie, and Ronnie went to Bio and Peter went to Calculus.

Doesn't sound too exciting? You'd have to be there, I guess. Anyways, a couple weeks later Peter's name popped up again, and again Flash's name came with it.

Flash and his cronies were playing basketball in the gym after school. Some girls were painting signs to decorate the place for some event I knew nothing about because I wasn't going. One of Flash's buddies threw him the ball and he didn't catch it. Instead it sailed right past his hand and knocked over some girl's paint bucket so that it spilled all over her sign, ruining it. Peter walked over and picked the bucket up for her as she yelled at Flash.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Wish I had," Flash said.

Peter picked up the basketball and walked over to to middle of court.

Flash said "Give it here, Parker."

Peter looked at Flash and smirked.

"Come and get it."

Flash looked at him with disbelief.

"You serious?"

Flash walked up to Peter with a gleam in his eye that said Peter was in for it this time. Peter held out the ball and looked him straight in the eye. Flash reached for it, but just before he could take it, Peter swung the ball behind his back to the other side and held it out again.

"Come on, Flash, take it," he said.

Flash reached again and Peter swung it to the other side saying

"Flash, just take the ball."

Peter held the ball out one more time and Flash grabbed it and tried to pull it out of Peter's hand. He pulled and pulled, but the ball would not come free. All the meantime Peter was saying things like

"Flash, I haven't got all day... Come on, just take it."

Eventually Flash gave up and Peter started dribbling the ball. He faked a left and took a right, dribbling the ball around Flash. He ran up and dunked the ball so hard he shattered the glass back board. Everyone stared. Peter just smiled and ducked out of the gym, throwing the ball to Flash as he left.

That was last week and everything has died down a bit. Peter's got public service as a punishment, but he doesn't have to pay for the backboard. Everyone's forgotten about Flash's little embarrassment, or at least they're not talking about it because that don't want to get pounded to a pulp.

The next part of my story is something that actually happened to me. I was there. This isn't something I've heard through the grapevine, okay? Cool.

Yesterday night I was walking home from the music store. I had just bought the new Pierce The Veil album that I had been waiting for for weeks. It was cold and dark and I clutched the CD in my hand as I walked home, counting the blocks. Six to go. I checked my watch. It was ten thirty. Wow, that line was longer than I though it had been. I'd just have to find a way to get inside the apartment without waking my mom or brothers. At twenty stories up, taking the back door was out. The fire escape was an option... Ah, scratch that. Heights are not my thing. Oh well, looks like I'm getting grounded.

While I'm deep in thought, I see movement in the alley to my left. I snap out of my speculating and take a closer look. I can't believe my eyes. It's Ricky. He looks like he's been drinking again. Maybe a little too much. He's using the wall to support himself and he's clutching his stomach as if he doesn't feel good. I take the chance to try to help him out and get on his good side, you know? Maybe he'll even acknowledge my existence! Woah there Melody, don't get carried away...

Anyways I walked up to him and hesitantly asked if he was ok.

"Uh, Ricky? My name's Melody. Need some help?"

He looked up from the ground and into my eyes and smiled. I could smell his breath, and it reeked of liquor and cigarettes.

"I know who you are, Melody. You go to my school and we've been in the same class since third grade. You don't talk much, do you?"

His words came out slurred and as he spoke he reached up and clumsily started playing with a strand of my hair that had come loose from my ponytail. I blushed and looked at my feet.

"Aw, such a pretty girl. Why don't you talk? You should talk more. Actually no. Don't talk. Talking is for men. Men like me. I'll do the talking."

He grabbed my face suddenly and kissed me violently. He grabbed my shirt and tried to yank it over my head, but I screamed and tried to pull away. He grabbed my wrists this time in one of his hands and wouldn't let me go. His other hand was still working on my shirt. I squirmed and wiggled and tried to get free but he was too strong. He ripped the side of my shirt up the seam during the struggle.

"RICKY STOP!" I yelled when he freed my mouth for air between kisses.

"SHUT UP! I SAID I'LL DO THE TALKING!" he screamed at me.

As he yelled he brought up his hand and backhanded me across my right cheek. I fell the ground and hit my head on he concrete.

All of a sudden, there was Peter. Just like that. Like he dropped out of the sky or something.

"Now that's not how you treat a lady," he said.

Ricky threw a sloppy punch towards Peter's head and Peter dodged it easily. Peter threw a right undercut into Ricky's stomach and he doubled over. Peter then picked a beer bottle up off the ground and shattered it on Ricky's head for good measure. Ricky fell over, unconscious.

Peter looked around the alley for me and spotted me sprawled over the concrete clutching the right side of my face. He walked over and picked me up off the ground before plucking my precious CD off the filthy alley floor and handing it to me. He surveyed me head to toe before pulling his sweatshirt off and handing it to me to wear. I took it gingerly and looked myself over, realizing my shirt was ripped in more than one unflattering place. I pulled on the sweatshirt and thanked him quietly. He asked if I was badly hurt and I shook my throbbing head. He didn't seem convinced but asked if I wanted him to walk me home. I hesitated before nodding yes. He walked me the remaining three blocks to my apartment building and told me to keep the sweatshirt. I blinked and he was gone.

I walked inside and took the elevator to my floor. I found my apartment number on the door and quietly used my key to sneak inside. My family was asleep. I checked my parents' room to see if my dad was home safe. He was so I went to my room and peeled out of Peter's sweatshirt and my ripped blouse. I changed into my PJs and looked in the mirror.

I saw the bruises on my wrists and face. How would I hide his from my family? From anyone? I can't stay under the radar looking like this. I guess I'll just try long sleeves and a whole lot of makeup.

I looked at myself in the mirror again and saw the scared little girl that I feel like every time my dad leaves for work in the morning. This time I wasn't scared for him, I was scared for me. What will happen when Ricky wakes up? Will he remember this night? Will he try to corner me at school to finish what he started? I can't sleep if I work myself up like this, so I grab my clothes and Peter's sweatshirt and head to the laundry room. I dump in some soap and turn on the washer. Looking at the clock I saw that it was ten past midnight. Looks like my quick trip to the music store turned into quite the event.

After a while the washer buzzed and I put the clothes in the dryer. When they were done I grabbed them and walked back to my room. I put Peter's sweatshirt in my backpack and my clothes in their proper drawers before crawling in bed and trying, without success, to get some sleep.

I didn't wake up in the morning because I couldn't sleep in the first place. I rolled out of bed and got ready for school, putting as much makeup as I dared over the bruise on my face and picking out a baggy hoodie to cover my wrists. I could use the hood to cover my face some too.

I quietly went to the kitchen to grab a granola bar to eat while I walked to school. My dad had just left and my mom was right behind him, so occupied with her phone that she, thankfully, didn't notice me. I snuck out the door and headed for the stairs, while my mother took the elevator.

I walked the ten blocks to my school, looking overmy shoulder every few seconds to make sure Ricky wasn't following me. I think it goes without saying that I don't like him anymore.

I got to school and opened my locker. As I emptied my books from my bag I found Peter Parker's shirt from the night before neatly folded in the bottom of my backpack. I would have to find a way to return it to him. The rest of my day went on as usual. No one noticed my face or my wrists and Ricky was no where to be seen. I guess it was a pretty bad hangover.

I have a dark sense of humor, don't I?

I grabbed my books for the last class of the day, Bio, from my locker, stuffed them in my bag, and adjusted my hood. One more class to go. Hopefully no one will notice me for a little while longer.

I walked into the classroom and dropped my bag on the floor next to my desk before plopping in my chair and sighing. Bio was alright and I did well enough in it, but I'm more of a Literature kind of girl rather than a human calculator, like Peter.

Speak of the devil, he walked in at that moment and sat down in the desk to the right of me, opening a notebook and starting to draw what looked like a red and blue man. When he caught me looking he flipped the notebook shut and I ducked behind my hair and my hood. Two layers that will hopefully help me hide. He smiled and took out his Bio textbook, flipping to today's chapter.

I reached into my bag and started sifting through my books to find his sweatshirt at the bottom of everything. I found it and pulled it out.

Timidly, I tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the folded piece of fabric. He looked at me and said

"I told you that you could keep that."

"I owe you. This feels like the least I can do."

"Alright, then. Thanks," he said as he took it from me and put it in his own bag.

A few months past without any notable events. Before long I had retreated back into my miserable excuse for a life and everything was back to normal. Then, about seven months after Peter saved me, I saw something on the news. This something was all over the news for weeks. The obnoxious voice of James Jonah Jamison ranting about "Spiderman" became a regular part of my morning routine.

One Friday morning as I was walking to school, thinking about the biology homework that I had had trouble doing, I felt someone grab the back of my shirt and drag me into an alley.

"Good morning sunshine..." came an awfully familiar voice.

I cringed as memories from all those months before came back to me. His breath still smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. He pinned me against the brick wall of the alley, an arm on either side of my head.

"W-w-what'd you want?" I stammered.

"Oh, darling don't be like that. I only want to finish what we started..."

He leaned into my neck and took a deep breath through his nose, smelling me, with a smirk. His hand slid to the neckline of my shirt and started to pull down. I began to breath heavy and balled up my fists, preparing to defend myself, but before I could, someone else stepped in.

Dropped in is more like it, actually. He came out of no where and was wearing a bizarre red and blue unitard. Oh, this was the guy from the news... Spiderman? Is that what they called him? Yeah, that's it.

Spiderman dropped on Ricky's shoulders they both fell to the ground. He made quick work of Ricky, a kick to the chest and a couple shots of webbing pinned him to the the alley wall. He pulled out a cell phone from only God knows where and called 911, leaving only an address for them to find a rapist and no other information. Then he turned to me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Not as bad as last time."

"He won't bother you again."

"Yeah, he'll get what he deserves."

"You've changed."

"Yeah I- Wait how do you know..."

Before I could finish my thought, I blinked and he was gone. A sweatshirt fell from the roof of the alley with a note attached to it that read:

"This time keep it."


End file.
